Immersion
by PodBayDoors
Summary: He just wants to take a shower, but it feels like he's drowning. Tag to Beneath the Surface.


Stargate SG-1and SGA and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime / Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money changed hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author

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This is my half of the challenge- josi and oma wanted a BTS tag and angst- here you go! 100% fluff free.

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**Immersion**

The shower should feel better than it does, Jack thought. It should feel better to get the grime off, that layer of coal dust held together with sweat and grease that had worked its way into every pore, crack and crevice of his skin. Normally, his first impulse after returning from a long field assignment was to stand here under the hot spray until his skin turned red, then scrub himself from head to toe in the same old generic soap that still managed to smell like heaven.

Today, though, he just let the water hit his neck and back without making a move to do anything else, standing in a trance induced by the feel and sound of the spray. He wasn't even sure he wanted to get clean.

Because it wasn't just dirt that he was washing away, it was the last personal connection he had to her, to the way she had looked and felt there in the underground city. There had been dust and dirt on her, too, beneath his hands, the grit being the only thing between them in the shadows of the furthest boiler where he had kissed her, pressed her back against the wall for fear of the anonymous eyes that might belong to someone who wanted an extra ration or second blanket and would rat them out to get it. His soapy fingers paused along the side of his neck as if he was checking to be sure he was still alive- but he was only remembering the way her lips had brushed his skin there before she slipped away and went back to her bunk last night.

He didn't want to rub the shampoo through his hair, either, to disrupt the furrows she had put there with her fingers. That's what had started it, after all. She wanted to know why he always wore the cap.

_I'm having a bad hair day. That's what they call it, right?_

She'd just laughed at him and taken it off and he'd decided he didn't care where the feelings came from because they felt real to him. Of course, they _were_ real- before, during and after Jonah. And so she'd ended up in his arms and the cap fell out of her hands and until this very moment he never noticed it was gone. Despite the fact that Jack was certain he was only the latest in a long line of owners, he wished he still had that ugly, itchy beanie, if only because it would be easier to remember her laugh and her smile, the feel of her fingers in his hair and the taste of her mouth. In retrospect he was glad that there had been no real privacy there because what had happened was bad enough, or not enough or would never be enough depending on how he looked at it.

There was still the steam, though. He let the water pound his chest, rinsing the last bit of grime out of his dog tags and felt the steam rise into his face, eyes closed. The feel of the warm air was comforting because it reminded him that occasionally things did work out, people didn't die, problems could be solved. He remembered her working, all of them working together, desperately trying to save people they shouldn't have known and shouldn't have cared enough about to risk their lives over- but they _did_ care and the vapor that had blown out of the broken valve that day was like a tremendous sigh of relief that Tor, Karlan and Thera had lived.

Thera. Sam. The officer who called him "sir." He put his hand against the cold, slippery wall to catch his breath because every time he thought of that moment it felt like someone had knocked the wind out of him. He opened his eyes and looked at a tiny crack in the top row of tile and waited for the water to stop streaming down his face. Then he shut off the faucet with a hard twist but it didn't do a damn thing to stop the torrent of memories

It was harder this time, to let go. In the time loop she'd told him he'd regret it, and she was right. This time, neither one of them saw it coming until real life hit them head on and he wished there were some kind of reverse memory stamp that would erase old ones instead of imprinting new ones.

Or did he? Because if he really wanted to forget, why was he standing here in fresh, clean BDUs contemplating the best way to sneak out that hideous burnt orange jacket that looked like it might be Chairman Mao's pajama top? Jack shook his head with a mixture of resolve and resignation, tossed the clothes in the wastebasket and walked out of the locker room.

And nearly ran right in to Sam Carter.

"Colonel." she said, and he realized he didn't need anything to help him remember as long as he had those eyes to look into every day whether he wanted to or not. She stood perfectly still and yet he could feel the vibrations, the energy she radiated, drawing him in now just as certainly as she had in every reality, in every timeline, memories or no memories, rank or no rank.

"Carter." There was nothing else to say, no explanations were needed. It was the cleanest break he'd ever had, a little like snapping a bone. Only this one wasn't going to heal and the most he could hope for was the pain to subside.

She stood there for a moment and then swung her gym bag onto her hip and dug through it. "I thought you might want this back," she said softly, holding out the scratchy wool hat.

He didn't move to take it, didn't even take his hands out of his pockets as he managed to force a smile. "Oh, keep it. It might clean up nice- kinda like you."

She smiled thinly. "No, sir. I can't."

"It'd make a good tea cozy," he said temptingly. Her smile faded and the pain in her eyes overwhelmed him and Jack realized that no amount of kidding around was going to help either one of them.

"I _can't._" she repeated slowly, extending her arm. He relented and took the cap from her hand, then watched her walk down the corridor until she disappeared around a corner.

It definitely will be harder this time, he thought as he shoved the cap into his bag. He always preferred to handle the toughest jobs on his own- but this time he didn't get to go it alone.


End file.
